Karma is a bitch, but that's OK. So was Lauren, at least, in my opinion. That was why I was heading outside to give karma a helping hand.
Now I suppose that there are those who consider Lauren to be a very nice young woman and think that I'm a bit of a bastard, but they've never lived with her. I guess I should give you a bit of background.
I've been doing a double degree at university and I'm in my last year. Now, when I started my course I had to look around for a convenient place to live. I lucked out in that search. A group of students had taken a lease on a large house. Unfortunately for one of them, he had a run-in with the police about his habit of selling drugs, leaving the place with one free room, which I managed to get.
It was a nice place with five bedrooms and three bathrooms. Where rent was concerned each bedroom paid twenty percent, plus twenty percent of any utility bills. (Whether a bedroom had one or two occupants was strictly up to the official occupant.) There was a nice back yard, complete with in-ground swimming pool. The pool and surrounds took up most of the yard so yard work was minimal.
The initial occupants were three men and two women, one of whom was Lauren. Lauren was quite a comfortable house-mate. She paid her share and did any chores that she was rostered to do quietly and efficiently. So why did I dislike her?
It was not because we were sexually incompatible. I made a subtle pass at the start of the tenancy and was given an equally subtle brush off. Thanks, but no thanks. That was OK. I was quite capable of chasing down a girlfriend elsewhere. Probably better not to get involved with a housemate.
For the past five years Lauren has been my housemate. She and I are the only two of the original inhabitants still in the house and we'll both be moving on at the end of this year.
So why do I consider her a bitch? She's a thief.
Every person who has stayed in the house has lost something to her. Never anything of any importance or value; just things that you wouldn't notice are missing until you need them, then they're gone.
When I first noticed the pattern of things going missing I mentioned it to the group and was generally cried down, the others refusing to believe that one of them might be light-fingered, Lauren scornfully leading the charge. After that I stayed quiet, took my personal precautions and observed.
By the end of the year I was almost sure that Lauren was the culprit but with no proof there was no way I was going to accuse her. I tried dropping a subtle hint that I was onto her, only to get a very sweet smile and a very unsubtle "Get fucked, loser." Subsequently I kept an even closer watch on my things.
So the years passed and my diploma got closer and Lauren continued her thieving ways. Part of my irritation was the sheer senselessness of what she was doing. Her choice of items tended to indicate she only did it for the fun of it. I also heartily disliked the way she commiserated with her victims, suggesting that maybe they lost the item at class or down the street. I thought she might be a kleptomaniac and it wasn't really her fault, but as far as I knew she just confined her activities to annoying her housemates. I finally decided she did it because she was a bitch.
Finally I lost another item. A nice little black bikini was stolen from my room. Seeing that I'm not going to wear a woman's bikini Lauren probably thought it was a safe thing to take. I might never miss it and might not even know I had it. I was assuming that Lauren probably thought that one of my girlfriends had left it behind at some stage.
Now things were going my way. It was a beautiful spring day. The first really hot day of the month. The only ones currently at home were myself and Lauren, and Lauren was currently sitting out next to the pool, sunning herself in a very fetching black bikini. I wandered out to the pool, smiling, karma walking with me.
"Lauren," I said smiling, nodding in greeting.
"Steve," she acknowledged, not smiling. She knew what I thought of her.
"Nice bikini," I said.
"Thank you."
"Looks just like the one I bought for a friend," I observed airily. "I seem to have lost that one somehow."
"Yeah, well this isn't it," Lauren was quick to reply, smirking. "If you'll excuse me I'm going swimming."
With that she turned and jumped in the pool. I'd rather thought she might, wanting to avoid any insinuations I might come up with. I watched her swim the length and back.
"You know, I don't really think that that is the bikini I lost," I told her. "I mean, it's not as though you'd risk going swimming in the one I had."
Lauren had been in the act of turning to swim back down the pool but now she paused, trying to decipher what I meant.
"Ah, what was wrong with the bikini you lost?" she asked cautiously.
"Oh, there was nothing wrong with it. After all, the warning was quite clearly printed on the package."
Lauren hesitated, not wanting to ask, but needing to. While she hesitated, I continued.
"Ah. Now that I consider it, I think I took the bikini out of its package. Maybe whoever found it didn't notice the warning," I said thoughtfully. "I do hope they don't go swimming in it."
"What? There was something dangerous about your bikini?"
"Not dangerous," I said. "More embarrassing. I mean, what girl would want to find that she's gone swimming in a soluble bikini."
"Soluble?"
"That's right. I bought it for a friend who wanted to prank his girlfriend. I had to go and get another one. Very irritating, losing the first one."
"By soluble, you mean it dissolves in water?"
"That is the accepted meaning of soluble," I said, smiling genially.
For some reason Lauren decided it was time to hop out of the water. That's when she found that I was holding her towel.
"My towel, please?" she requested, holding out her hand.
"In a moment. Ah, your top seems to be sagging."
Lauren glanced down at the top half of the bikini that did seem to be sort of sagging down away from her breasts. She hastily grabbed a cup and pulled it back into place, or I assume that was what she intended to do. What she actually did was pull the cup right off, leaving her breast exposed.
She gave a squeak, dropped the bit of bikini and slapped her hand over her breast. I picked up the scrap of material and gently tugged at it, finding it just split apart at the first little tug. Still smiling I reached over and gave a little tug on her other cup, laughing as it came apart. Lauren was now holding her arms folded across her breasts, blushing and glaring at me.
"Give me my towel," she said, biting off each word.
"Give me my bikini," I said in reply, and this time I reached down and hooked a finger under the waistband of the bikini. Tried to, anyway. The sodden material just split apart, dropping away from her.
"I do believe that I've caught you red-handed with stolen goods," I said amiably. "Or perhaps I should say, red-faced."
"My towel," Lauren pleaded, blushing and trying to cover up.
"Lauren, my love," I said softly. "You don't seem to be getting the message. You are a sneaky little thief and I finally have proof. Now it's a case of what the penalty will be."
"You can't prove a thing," Lauren snapped. "It'll just be your word against mine. Now give me my bloody towel."
"You don't seriously expect to be able to lie your way out of this?" I asked, lifting an eyebrow as a sign of disbelief.
"No-one will believe you," Lauren insisted. "I'll just say you're making accusation because I won't go out with you."
"We'll see. Why do you take things, anyway? It's just garbage that you seem to nick."
"It's fun. It shows that I can. Now, my towel."
"So you're saying it boils down to your word against mine. Plus my witness."
I held up my witness, bringing it to her attention. Her blush went pale as she saw my smart phone was filming everything, including her nudity and her confession. I ostentatiously pushed the power button, shutting down the phone, and put it in my pocket.
One does not argue with a woman. You either arrange things so that you're in a position to lay down the law or you accept defeat. I was now in the right position.
"Why don't you step back into the pool and wash the rest of that bikini off and then we'll go inside and have a little discussion."
To emphasize that I was serious I moved closer, easing her towards the pool and then giving her a helping hand. She hit with a splash and came up spluttering. She did have the sense, however, to wash off the sticky black mess that had been her purloined bikini.
"My towel, now, please," she said, climbing back out of the pool.
"Don't be in such a rush," I chided her. "Come along and we'll talk about this."
I led the way back inside, leaving her no choice but to follow. I couldn't really see her staying in the yard, naked. As soon as we were in the house Lauren pushed past me, heading for her room.
"Hold it," I said, capturing her arm. "Where do you think you're going?"
"To get some clothes on," she hissed at me. "Can't you see I'm naked?"
"Oh, yes," I said with a big smile. "With both eyes and a good memory, but I think we should have our little chat first."
With that I headed for the front room, the one we all used as a common room, towing Lauren along behind me. She came, unwilling and fuming, but she came.
"In my opinion," I informed her, "you're a bitch and a thief. Now while I could cause you some embarrassment with the others you'd probably cry and say sorry and show a lot of repentance and point out that you never took anything of importance or anything that had real value. While Suzy might be a bit snarky over it you'd probably have the boys apologising for upsetting you.
I could cause you a lot of embarrassment by posting a certain video on the web but that's sort of a permanent thing to do and I'd rather not.
I'll make you a deal. I'll deliver what I think is a fitting punishment. After that you'll knock off the light-fingered work and I'll delete the video."
Lauren stood there, glaring at me. She wasn't trying to hide her charms any longer but still seemed incensed that I was admiring them.
